


Of Promises

by ShrimpZilla



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 20:39:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2786984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShrimpZilla/pseuds/ShrimpZilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen pulls away after he feels his lyrium sickness has hurt the Inquisitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Promises

**Author's Note:**

> written for dragon age kink meme

Trevelyan opened her eyes and then closed them again. Today felt like a day to stay in bed. Of course, that seemed to be her feeling more often than not recently. With a sigh she sat up, holding the blankets around her body, and looked around her room. She didn’t know what she was looking for. Perhaps a sign that today wouldn’t be another exercise in pretending she didn’t feel like curling into a ball and crying. There was no such sign and her chest ached emptily just as it had yesterday and the day before. She wondered if that empty feeling was the space in her heart that Cullen had occupied. Tears threatened her at the thought. This was how it had felt those first months at the Circle when her family had sent her away. The empty, hurt, stretched out feeling in her chest that bespoke of something missing. 

She was being dramatic.

She rolled out of bed. She would feel better when she stopped feeling sorry for herself. The more time she spent moping the worst everything got. She had to get up, get her mind clear, and maybe try talking to Cullen. Her stomach wavered at the thought but she knew it was ridiculous to avoid him. She had known he was sick when she got involved with him. She had known it wasn’t going to be easy. The nightmares, hallucinations, and paranoia would pass. Even when it hurt her to see him stare at her like a stranger or a monster she could comfort herself by remembering that it would pass. It was her duty to him to forget the things he said or did while in throws of withdrawal madness. And she could. She had the first time she had found him rambling and yelling about what had happened in Kinloch Hold. She had the next time when she got back from the Hinterlands and he was so ill he was confined to bed, so delusion he thought she was someone from his past. She forgave the time he called her a mage with such hatred and revulsion she had felt physically sick. She ignored when he tried to silence her using his fading abilities. None of it mattered. It was all just a temporary hurt, already forgiven by the time he was himself enough to apologize. 

It was the pulling away she couldn’t handle. The way his hands had begun to feel like wood when he touched her. The way his lips never sought out hers with any real need. The way she didn’t fit right in his arms any longer. Two days ago he had told her he needed time to himself when she tried to invite him to spend the night in her quarters. He had claimed a busy workload but she had seen the distance in his eyes even when she sat before him in only his shirt. The disinterest made her feel hollow and for the first time truly thrust upon her how vulnerable she had made herself to him. Originally she had thought that it wasn’t a big deal. People needed their space and he was going through a lot. But the way he then acted when he saw her was so professional, so cold that she felt pains in her chest. She imagined this was why the Circle looked down on serious relationships between the mages. A broken heart could lead to a lot of bad choices. 

She washed, brushed her hair, and all in all tried to make herself look the exact opposite of how she felt. This was the sort of thing that Cullen had been tentative about when they started their relationship. She couldn’t let what was going on between them effect the Inquisition. She wouldn’t. She was mature enough to do that. 

When she got downstairs she realized it was later than she thought. She waved when she passed Varric, who was in a conversation with someone she didn’t wholly recognize so she didn’t stop, and exited the building. The air was crisp and cool and did wonders to make her feel a little more awake. Of course as she descended the steps to the courtyard she heard the sound of swords clashing, shields bashing, and the instructive shouting of her Commander. The sound of his voice made her feel tight and small. She saw Blackwall and Sera standing off to the side by the tavern and made that her destination. When she walked by him she offered up a wave—casual, no pressure—and he nodded his head in return. It may have been a trick of her eyes but she thought she saw pain flash in his features. She bit her lip and forced herself not to stop and throw her arms around him. Beg forgiveness for something she knew she hadn’t done. She had only been good to him during his episodes. She had held him while he cried, watched him while he slept, allowed him to vent all the bile that had built up in him over the years. He would apologize to her when he was able but in the meantime… In the meantime she just didn’t understand why she being shut out.

“Someone’s in a bit of mood, innit he?” She heard Sera comment. She glanced over her shoulder back at Cullen.

“Aye. He’s running those men to the ground today. Offered to train with him earlier. Wasn’t worth the bruises,” Blackwall said. 

“What do you think he’d do if I just ran up and pantsed him? Knickers and all. Bet he’d blush all the way to his bottom,” the archer snorted in laughter. Blackwall shook his head, amused but more reasonable than Sera tended to be. 

“I don’t think it would do well for the troops to see their Commander exposed like that.” Sera jostled an elbow into Trevelyan’s side. The mage looked over, only half aware of the conversation that had been going on.

“Ey, he’s saying your man ain’t got nothin’ worth mention’ downstairs. You gonna let him say that about ol’ Cully-Wully?”

“Don’t pull down his pants, Sera,” Trevelyan said simply. Sera stuck out her tongue. “He might poke your eye out by accident,” she added and the elf erupted in a peal of laughter that had her on her butt in the dirt. Trevelyan smiled as much as she could manage, the act itself lifting her spirits slightly. If she acted like everything was the same as always maybe it would become the same as always. 

“What good’s an archer with only one eye?” Blackwall asked. Sera waved him off.

“Bull’s just got the one and he’s not so bad.” She picked herself up and patted the dust from her pants. “Think of all the fun I could have with an eye patch! I could hide things under it.”

“Sera, would you mind getting ready? I’m going to the Emerald Graves today and I wanted you to come along,” the Inquisitor said. She had been intending to leave tomorrow but suddenly it felt like leaving today would be a better choice. She was in a rut and a good way to get out of a rut was to go someplace and help people. Sera gave her a comic salute and headed off to her room to gather her supplies. “Excuse me, Blackwall, I’ve got to go find Cassandra.” The Warden gave her a nod and Trevelyan walked away, putting the sounds of training and Cullen to her back. She found Cassandra sitting on a bench reading. When she asked her to join her on the trip the Seeker nodded and left to prepare as well as summon Solas at the Inquisitor’s behest. 

Trevelyan sat on the bench that Cassandra had vacated and rubbed her hands over her face. Cullen needed space. He needed to be alone with his thoughts. She could respect that. She knew that she could. She wasn’t a clingy, needy child. Not speaking to him or touching him or sleeping next him for a few days wouldn’t kill her. She did it all the time, actually! Away from Skyhold she might go a week without even seeing him. Somehow the thought wasn’t as comforting as she had hoped it would be. 

“Blood banging, burning, beating broken bits back into shape but they don’t fit like they should and everything is different.” She pulled her hands from her face and found Cole staring at her. She had told him he needed to stop sneaking up on people but apparently they had different ideas about what sneaking entailed. “How do you help someone when the thing that would help them hurts them too?”

“How do you mean?” She asked, curious as to what hurt he was referring and whose thoughts he had been reciting when he appeared. They hadn’t been hers. Or at least she didn’t think they had. Sometimes Cole spoke so abstractly she had to wonder if she wasn’t missing out on something. 

“The Commander,” Cole clarified. Trevelyan felt her body go cold. “He is sick-- hurting with the demons in his head, do you like this?-- and it would stop if he drank lyrium. But,” the spirit swayed a little on his feet as he drifted from one option to the next, “taking the lyrium would make him feel better but… worse. Shame swirling and shaking, twisting him up, tangled like her feet in the sheets. She doesn’t deserve this.” He licked his lips and tilted his head to see her better from beneath his bangs and hat. 

“He just needs time,” she heard herself say, not sure if she believed it now or if she ever had. 

Around the War Table Trevelyan arranged what would be done while she was away. There was no way to be sure how long her trip to the Emerald Graves would take. She wanted to close rifts that had been reported opened as well as look into some of the unrest in the area. Cullen made a point of not looking at her unless he was explaining something of military importance. She wondered if everyone could feel the awkward tension that sat heavy between them or if it was all in her mind. When the plans were laid she turned to leave. Cassandra was ahead of her and already out the door. 

“Inquisitor.” She felt a light touch on her arm. Leliana and Josephine snuck passed her as she stopped, looking over her shoulder at the Commander.

“Commander,” she responded. He retracted his hand and frowned down at the ground. She turned a little so that she was angled more towards him. Her heart was beating loudly in her ears. She was nervous and some sick part of her suggested it was because she didn’t know what he was about to say. She had to brace for herself for the chance that it would be more vitriol against mage kind. 

“I wanted to…” He wavered. “Let you know I hope you return safely.” She could tell by the look on his face that it wasn’t what he had wanted to say. This stupid pleasantry wasn’t the reason he stopped her. She fought the urge to scream in frustration. 

“Is that all?” Her coldness seemed to shock him out of his stoic façade. He looked surprised and she relished it. The fact that he had been able to stand before her and pretend as if nothing was wrong between them, act as if they were simply comrades rather than lovers fueled a petty part of her. “Maybe if I come home injured you’ll deign to talk to me.”

“What?” She crossed her arms over her chest in attempt at masking her anger into something more casual. 

“You’ve been avoiding me and ignoring me since your last… episode. I understand that you’ve got things going on but that doesn’t mean you can do this sort of thing. The stuff that you’ve said to me alone, I think, entitles me to at least some sort of conversation. Or is that just our relationship dynamic? You get to tell me mages are the worst thing to ever walk Thedas and then I get to sit and be miserable until you decide you need someone to clean up your throw up?” She was breathless when she finished. She hadn’t even realized that it had been building up like that. She had been certain that she had brushed aside all the things he had said when he wasn’t himself. Apparently she had just been holding on to them. Cullen was looking at her with guarded eyes. If she had hurt him he wouldn’t show her that. It figured. “You said you saw me as more than a mage but… I’m not sure you do.” He lowered his gaze, looking as guilty as the puppy that had done exactly what it had been told not to do.

“My mind gets muddled sometimes and I… In those moments I can’t see you as anything other than a mage,” he admitted. She felt her heart constrict. Her eyes felt hot and she had to blink to stop the inevitable flow of tears. 

“And you hate mages,” she said on a breath. He looked up, insistent.

“No.”

“In those moments you do.” She shook her head and looked away. It hurt look at him. It all just hurt. “I have sat next to you while you looked at me as if I were a demon, while you called me some other woman’s name, while you… made me feel like the monster the Chantry tried to make me believe I was.”

“I know, I—“ She held up a hand to interrupt him. He fell silent. From the corner of her eye she could see him looking at her deflated and dejected. It made her hurt worse. She wanted to just say that they should nevermind this conversation. They should just go back to when things were good and new and perfect. But that wasn’t how life worked. Everything that hung between them couldn’t be swept under the rug. 

“If,” she hesitated on the word, “if we’re going to figure this out then you need to figure out how you feel about me as a person and as a mage.” She heard him take in a gulp of air as he prepared himself to speak. She looked back at him and shook her head. She couldn’t listen to this now. “I have things to thing about as well.” His eyes were shimmering with tears as well. He nodded, rubbed his hand over his face, and then took a step closer. He leaned down and brushed a kiss against her cheek. Professional. Courteous. Lifeless. It echoed in the vacant spot she felt in her chest. She swallowed and stepped away. 

 

“Are you all right?” Cassandra asked as they set up their camp for the second night in the Emerald Graves. Trevelyan glanced over at where Solas was trying to talk to Sera about elves. She didn’t know why the man continued to try. Sera had made herself pretty clear about her thoughts on the matter. She supposed it wasn’t her business. 

“Just tired,” she responded. Cassandra made a noise of agreement. She bit her lip and looked at the older woman. She trusted Cassandra, listened her to council carefully, and admired her as a fighter and leader. “I think I made a mistake with Cullen,” she confessed. Cassandra raised an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

“We argued, kind of, before I left.” 

“I thought you seemed tense.” Trevelyan couldn’t deny that she had been on edge the whole trip. She kept replaying her conversation with Cullen in the war room. The things she had said needed to be said but she wished she had been gentler. He wasn’t a bad man just sick and she… she didn’t know if she was equipped to deal with it. 

“With the lyrium sickness and everything that’s happened to him in his past… I just…” She fought to find the words to describe the way she felt. Cassandra watched her patiently. She was grateful for that. She sighed and pulled her knees to her chest. “I wonder if my being a mage is just making it all worse for him. When he’s sick, sometimes he… he’s afraid of me.” She hadn’t told anyone about what went on behind closed doors when Cullen was at his worst. It had seemed unfair to him. Hearing it said aloud to someone who was not the two of them made the reality of their situation hit her hard. He was an ex-Templar who had been abused by demons at the hands of mages he had sworn to protect, who had seen blood magic ravage a city until an apostate snapped and destroyed the Chantry. How could she expect him to cast all that aside and welcome her into him? She was everything bad that had ever happened to him. 

“The Commander cares for you deeply. Though he tries to maintain a professional distance in public it is written all over his face whenever he looks at you.” She rested a reassuring hand on Trevelyan’s shoulder. “When his sickness passes your relationship will be stronger for having gone through this trial together.”

“What if we can’t make it through it?” She looked at Cassandra hopelessly. “I’ve never been in anything like this before. A serious relationship. They don’t exist in the Circle. I don’t know how to deal with feeling hurt or ignored or angry without just calling it quits.” With other mages in the Circle it had always been secret and fast and anything that seemed like it might get complicated was immediately passed upon. She couldn’t do that now though. She didn’t want to. She wanted to be with him but worried she was hurting him the same why he was hurting her. Unconsciously but still badly. 

“Do you picture a future with him?” Trevelyan thought of the times they had laid together speaking of the places they would go when everything was over. She could meet his family in Fereldan. She would make amends with her family and they would spend lavish weekend in Ostwick. She thought of the children she had pictured in her mind or glimpsed in her Fade dreams. Strawberry blonde curls and bright eyes, his cheekbones and her nose.

“Yes,” she breathed, her throat tight with emotion. She nodded to underscore her point. Cassandra offered her a knowing smile.

“Then you will find a way to make it.” Trevelyan returned the Seeker’s smile. Her heart felt certain and uncertain, scared and steadfast, light and heavy. She wanted to stay with Cullen. She wanted to forgive him, and she was positive of the fact that she could do that with time. But she didn’t know how he felt. If he still harbored his hatred for magic then even if he loved her they couldn’t be together. She wouldn’t be the exception that proved the rule. 

 

Two weeks later they returned to Skyhold. They were exhausted but had sustained very little injury. The worst that they had faired was when Solas had wound up with a wasp’s nest falling onto him from a tree they had been walking under. He had accused Sera of tomfoolery but the rogue had said he had no proof. Since they had all wound up stung in the insects’ fury Trevelyan had to admit it seemed a rather stupid prank. Whatever the case Skyhold was a happy and welcome sight. They entered to the sound of a horn announcing their safe arrival. Per usual people gathered to congratulate them on a safe return. Their horses were taken the stables, their packs carried off to be resupplied, and they all parted ways to take in much needed rest at home. Trevelyan was headed towards Skyhold’s main hall when a solider stopped her. 

“Commander Cullen needs to speak to you about something urgent.”

“Urgent?” Trevelyan questioned. The soldier nodded. She had wanted to take some time to prepare herself to speak with him. He hadn’t been in the courtyard when they arrived which was a blessing and a curse. This message raised the same mixed feelings. It wasn’t like Cullen to abuse privilege for personal means which meant she had to assume this was actually urgent Inquisition business. That meant that she couldn’t take her time in seeing him because this needed her attention. She sighed a little and thanked the soldier for relaying the message. Dragging her feet, literally and figuratively, she headed towards Cullen’s room.

When she got there he was standing by his desk, reading a report or pretending to read one by the way his eyes immediately left the page when she entered. She had tried to fix her hair on the way over but there was no fixing the fact that she was still in her armor. He looked at her like she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen despite it all and Trevelyan felt her heart tremble. She loved this man more than anything she had ever understood. He cleared his throat, “Inquisitor.”

“You needed to see me?” He cleared his throat again and she bit her lip as she watched him. 

“Yes. I…” He took a step towards her. He could read anxiety in all of his movements. “I thought about what you said before you left. I have… no apology adequate enough for the things I’ve put you through.” She swallowed when he looked at her from beneath his eyelashes. She was nervous but hopeful, scared and hurting from everything that had been going on. If he couldn’t make the distinction between the faults of magic that he had seen in the past and her… “If I could take back the things I’ve said—“

“You can’t,” she said simply. He nodded to her point. “I can forgive you. I can be strong if it happens again. I just…” She closed her eyes when she felt the rush of emotion over her. “I can’t be with you if I have to wonder what you actually think of me.”

“I think you’re wonderful,” Cullen said quickly. She opened her eyes. “I am not the man I was when I left Fereldan or even the man I was when I left Kirkwall. I promise you that.” He leaned a hand on his desk as if to keep himself steady. “I love you.”

“I know that, Cullen.” She crossed to him and laid her hand over his on the desk. He stiffened awkwardly and it caused a pang of concern in her chest. Was it because she was a mage that he rejected her touch? Or because he was nervous? “But I need to know that it isn’t just me that you love. I need to know that you have no issue with magic.” She hesitated, went to pull away from him. His hand twitched and he moved two of his fingers over the tips of hers.She felt emboldened. “If we were to have children the potential would be there for them to be mages.” She didn’t look at him when she said it, but rather at their hands. She felt her cheeks turning hot while her whole body started to sweat. For a long drawn out moment Cullen said nothing. Trevelyan tried to pull her hand away, humiliated and hurt, but he gripped it tighter. 

“I learned to hate magic from what was done to me,” he said slowly. “I am,” he paused and then emphasized his next word, “learning to love to it in the same way.” He took a step closer to her, his hand still holding hers, and let his chin rest on her head. “I would love our child no matter what. I would… That you would even think if having…” Trevelyan looked up and found that he was crying. She moved her free hand to his face, cupping his cheek as her thumb wiped away tears. He nuzzled into it, his stubble rough and biting on her palm. 

“You’re the only future I’ve ever thought about,” she confessed. 

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered. His lips ghosted over her palm. She shivered. “I promise I will be better. When I am we can have a real chance at this.” She rested her head on his chest and let his arm encircle her waist. Neither of them could know how long the withdrawal would last. She dreaded the next episode, but she looked forward to the times that would come after.


End file.
